


Charlie Potatoes

by Lov_pb



Series: Animula [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lov_pb/pseuds/Lov_pb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal decides to have a movie night at his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charlie Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Story takes place after Tigeress79's Animula Chapter 32. The movie Neal chooses is a favorite of mine. It will be revealed in Chapter 2. Any guesses?

"Movie night! You know I love movie night," exclaimed Mozzie, stepping through the open door of Neal's upscale apartment. "I've been looking forward to this since yesterday's invitation."

The little guy gazed about the living area, noting the appetizer trays, decanters, bottles, wine glasses and DVD cases, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Neal had even positioned the couch and chairs in an inviting circle around a large screen TV monitor.

Skirting around the furniture, as if it were an obstacle ready to topple the large carry bag he was carefully balancing in his arms, Mozzie edged over to Neal's kitchen counter, placing his duffel bag on the floor. Pulling out a large box set of movies and several huge tins of gourmet popcorn, his smile grew larger.

"I stopped at Penn Plaza, mon frère. An acquaintance of mine got me a huge discount at Garratt's."

Garrett's, an upscale popcorn shop first originating in Chicago, was a popular attraction among the elite who desired perfectly cooked popcorn crisp and light, air-popped and served with natural flavorings. The store advertised their ingredients were from closely guarded, secret family recipes.

Neal's eyes were locked on the number of tins his friend continued to pull out of his bag. "Looks like you bought out the store. Did you leave any behind?" he asked with a grin, reaching out to help steady the towering stack.

Mozzie rolled his eyes. "I bought all four varieties including 'Chicago Mix'; your own personal favorite.

He knew Neal's weakness, a passion for Garrett's blend of cheese and caramel flavored popcorn, known to be addictive as crack. "Too bad June's on vacation. I bought some of her macadamia, caramel crisp."

"Well, it's a lovely addition to our evening repast. Thanks, Moz."

"The least I could do," his friend beamed with delight, pleased with himself. "So… how did you get rid of your pet for the evening? Where is Peter? In his room amusing himself with mathematical abstractions, or surfing the net for award-winning stock analysis and portfolio management?"

Neal shook his head.

"Oh, I know," Mozzie snorted. "He's eagerly devouring rules and chess tactics for a higher skill level? He actually thinks he can beat me."

"I thought he already had."

"One more point against him," Mozzie declared. "You cannot play at chess if you are kind-hearted."

Neal chuckled. "Peter didn't quote French proverbs when he told me about your chess games."

"I'm sure he didn't."

Pausing, the small man glanced at Neal's front door. "Say, it's pretty early for him to go to bed. He's not running another fever, is he?" Not that I'm worried about him, thought Mozzie. He just needs constant supervision.

"Yeah, about that," Neal reluctantly confessed, sliding his hands in his pockets and leaning against the counter, "I have to come clean with you."

Mozzie stopped midway between the kitchen and the living area, turning his head around to gawk.

"What? Wait! You didn't ask him to join us tonight. Neal, tell me you didn't─"

"I don't want him to feel excluded, Moz. Besides it's a good way for the two of you to get to know each other better."

Mozzie shook his head. "Two problems with that scenario. One, I don't want to get to know him better; I don't want to know him at all. And two, you told me on the phone this would be a time for you and me, sans Golden Eyes, to relax after the past week's trauma." He sunk powerless onto the sofa, closest to the wine bottles and oeuvres trays.

Neal reached into a drawer, pulled out a corkscrew and opened one of his best bottles of Bordeaux. Filling two glasses, he carried them to his slumped friend. Sitting down next to Mozzie on the couch, he gently placed the wine on the coffee table.

"Wine, food, good companionship, a classic movie … you'll see. A good time to be had by all."

"No, no, no," Mozzie sighed, wearily.

Treading softly, Peter appeared at the open door, closing it gently behind him. Earlier that day, Neal had invited Peter to spend a social evening with him and Mozzie. After several attempts to dissuade Neal from the asinine idea, his owner had flatly informed him, the evening was planned and he hoped to see him at 7PM.

Peter hadn't taken two steps into the room before the other two men looked up. "My research is almost complete," he stated, waving some paperwork at Neal. "This should give you a clear idea of which specific stocks to zero in on."

Attempting to feel useful, knowing Neal's interest in Cheng's assets, Peter had continued to study the quarterly and annual earnings reports of several of Cheng's hidden companies, identifying the ones with volatile earnings versus the ones with serious upside potential.

"Don't you ever knock?" Moz asked, his blue eyes sweeping over Peter, evaluating. "Neal, does he knock? It's kind of creepy having him sneak up on us."

Peter drew a deep breath; Neal stood up smiling.

"The door wasn't closed, Moz," he said patiently. "And besides, you know Peter has the run of the house, same as you. Actually, more so… since he lives here."

Mozzie waved this away, sipping at one of Neal's fine wines, a food-filled plate on his lap. The area around his eyebrows furrowed. "Have you been doing anything actually useful?" Mozzie asked, directing his question Peter's way.

Peter shook his head, giving a pointed look of his own.

"Just the usual, Mr. Haversham. Plotting mayhem, fostering uprisings and contemplating murdering my owner in his sleep."

Mozzie's mouth dropped open. Neal threw Peter an amused grin.

"You deserved that, Moz. Loosen up and have more wine. Peter's looking forward to a quiet evening watching classic movies."

"Right," muttered Peter, smiling coldly.

As he stood there stiffly, looking around the room, noting the food, alcohol and furniture arrangement, Neal took pity on him, stood up and motioned Peter to the kitchen.

"There's bottled water in the fridge, Peter and since Dr. Taylor said no alcohol, I designed a special drink for you."

Neal drew out a beautiful cut glass crystal pitcher, pouring a mixture into a frosty glass mug. As Peter approached with a quizzical look, Neal added, "You have to try this. I've gotten raves for my pineapple, passion fruit and coconut mocktail."

"Neal, I─"

"Oh go on, Peter," suggested Mozzie, momentarily stopping his munching. "Neal won't rest until you've tried his exotic elixir. He doesn't name these concoctions but the ones he made for me, when I was sick, are pretty good… even without the alcohol."

Feeling defeated, Peter took the mug, following Neal back to the seating area. Neal stretched out next to Mozzie. Peter moved to the chair furthest away and sat down ramrod straight, shoulders thrown back, eyeing the men as if he expected a momentary attack.

"Well, this is certainly the beginning of a delightful evening," said Mozzie. "However, not all is lost; I brought some really great movies."

"No," declared Neal. "We are not watching 'Tiles of Fire' or─"

"Whaat?"

"…any of its sequels tonight."

"Why not?" asked his friend. "Peter probably hasn't seen any of them?" Mozzie directed his next words to Peter. "Have you? Do slav… ah, Animula watch movies?"

"No."

Elizabeth certainly had her favorite films and introduced Peter to the concept of date night on the couch: you, spouse and the sofa. He smiled inwardly, remembering her turning what she called an ordinary night at home, into a special evening for the two of them.

"See," argued Mozzie, "he wants to see them."

"No, I don't."

"Don't worry," Neal interrupted. "I've picked a classic. My apartment, my rules." He lifted the remote and smiled.


	2. Long Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal's choice of movie is revealed.

"So, what've you got for us?" Mozzie asked. "It's not one of those artsy, independent flicks, is it? If you're introducing your new roomie to the concept of a motion picture classic, my DVD movies," he waved his hand in the direction of his stack, "is a much better choice than some plot claiming to force the viewer into a deeper level of thinking."

Shaking his head and reaching for more wine, he glanced at Peter who was eyeing him with an impassive expression.

"Don't you agree, Peter? Let's watch an action or adventure movie. It'll give you a much needed break from all that number crunching."

Taking a moment to reply, he returned Mozzie's direct gaze without hesitation. "I'm sure you're familiar with the expression 'a fish out of water'. Since I'm out of my element, gentlemen, I'll leave the decision in your capable hands."

Neal smiled and winked at Peter.

"Tactful but cowardly answer," replied Mozzie. "Okay then. Neal, Mr. Limpet here, doesn't get a vote."

A flash of annoyance crossed Peter's features. Setting his drink on the side table and crossing his arms, Peter sent a long-suffering glance Neal's way. His fever had returned late that afternoon; he wasn't feeling very compliant.

Turning to the table behind him, Mozzie began stacking an even larger, intricate arrangement of blue crab beignets, crudités, bacon-wrapped dates, canapés, and ham and gruyere pastries onto his plate.

"Don't keep us in suspense any longer." The little guy paused for a moment. "By the way, is there dessert for later in the evening?"

"I have dessert in the fridge," Neal chuckled, pouring more wine and taking a sip. "But will you have room left after all the tins of popcorn you're planning to polish off?" Pressing a button on the remote, he started the DVD player.

"Peter, you'd better help yourself to some food before it disappears."

Setting the mood, Neal leaned over the couch, turning off one of the table lamps. "Moz, you'll enjoy this one. The genre is drama, contains action and suspense, certainly a classic and one of my favorites."

Pausing his eating, Mozzie turned attention to his best friend. "Drama. Hmm… plot-driven, portraying realistic characters or situations. But your clue is too vague. Dramatic films are the largest film genre. You need to offer another hint."

"What if I say 'Charlie Potatoes'?"

Immediately smiling with recognition, Mozzie clapped his hands. Maybe the evening wasn't ruined after all.

"Peter," Neal added, "I hope you like the film."

The DVD began to play and the picture, filmed in black and white cinematography, began with opening credits. Peter leaned slowly forward, and for several minutes, his eyes were glued to the screen.

"I've been mad all my natural life," he quietly muttered.

Neal and Mozzie traded looks of surprise before turning to stare at Peter.

"He's seen this movie," the smaller man whispered to Neal. "Peter just quoted Sidney Poitier's line from The Defiant Ones."

Neal agreed. "He continues to amaze me."

"He's supposed to worry you," Mozzie hissed, eying Neal's new asset from his peripheral vision.

Peter half-listened to them talk over him, remembering an evening watching the multiple Academy Award nominated flick with El. Insisting they view it one night, she described the film as one of the best movies ever made about prejudice and the capacity of the human heart to change.

He had found himself captivated by the powerful, raw emotions displayed by two members of a chain gang, one white and one black, shackled together, forced to rely on each other, fleeing across the old south. Opposites in every way, raised without common background, the men had formed a deep brotherly-bond culminating in a surprising ending. What's worth more: freedom or an individual's life?

As the movie continued to run, Mozzie and Neal drank more wine, munched on appetizers, quoted familiar lines from the film and relaxed together in a way Peter envied. Watching the movie became bittersweet, evoking memories of a happier time and his ever present pain of loneliness.

Thoughts of his wife flooded Peter's mind, but he couldn't help begin to relax amid the easy camaraderie Neal and Mozzie displayed. Often wondering how it felt to have a male friend, the closest he came had been the short period of time he had shared with Daniel, another Animula.

Past the film's halfway point, Neal picked up the remote pausing the movie. Mozzie wanted to open his tins of popcorn. Carrying an assortment over to the couch, he stacked them on the floor. Opening two of the containers, Mozzie placed the Chicago Mix on the coffee table and gingerly offered the second tin to Peter.

"I've been known to share," he reluctantly confessed.

Peter turned to him, a puzzled look on his face. Neal's friend wouldn't want to share food with him. Had Neal prodded him while his attention was elsewhere? Sighing inwardly, ready to provide the awkward and polite refusal, Mozzie edged closer to his chair and unceremoniously dropped the container on his lap. Unable to hide an uncontrollable flinch, the Animula grabbed at it, staring down at his hands.

"Which flavor is that, Moz?" asked Neal, taking control of the situation.

"It's the CheeseCorn," answered Mozzie, before turning back to Peter.

"Why don't you try it? You're not lactose-intolerant, are you? I can't eat it," he explained, "but they say the melted cheddar is amazing."

Peter continued to stare at him speechless.

"It's movie night, Golden Boy. Popcorn is eaten during movie night!"

Expressing no overt appreciation, there was a slight relaxation of Peter's shoulders and a flicker of light in his eyes that told his companions he was pleased.

"Thank you," Peter said sincerely, experiencing an unexpected warm feeling rise in him. "I certainly wouldn't want to upset tradition."

As Neal waited for Mozzie to refill the wine glasses and settle back down, he refilled Peter's mug. His blue eyes swept over him taking note of the man's flagging energy. Dr. Taylor had cautioned him about remaining alert to any telltale signs of exhaustion. It was time to finish running the film and allow Peter to retire to bed.

"Are you up to seeing the rest of the movie?" Neal quietly asked Peter, as an aside.

Taking a generous sip of his mocktail, Peter nodded and cracked a smile.

"Wouldn't miss it; stick to the classics and you can't go wrong."

"My feelings exactly." Neal replied, with a hopeful smile. He had anticipated Peter and Moz would understand his choice for movie night. The protagonists' deep misunderstanding of each other, society's separation that kept them apart, did not prevent a bond of friendship that transcended deep prejudice.

"Ahem!" Mozzie tapped the stem of his wineglass. "May we get on with the movie? 'Time's a-wastin'."

"If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality," replied Peter.

"By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote," countered Mozzie, enjoying the recitations. Cheeks flushed, his Emerson quote sounded just a bit tipsy.

Neal grinned and breathed a small sigh of relief. The conman hit the play button; The Defiant Ones picking up from where they had left off. Getting Peter to join them this evening hadn't been easy. Mozzie and Peter would probably remain at odds with each other, but they had both lowered their guard. He would count the night a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 1958 classic, "The Defiant Ones, starred Tony Curtis and Sidney Poitier. If you haven't seen it, I recommend the viewing. "The theme of The Defiant Ones is that what keeps men apart is their lack of knowledge of one another. With that knowledge comes respect, and with respect comradeship and even love."  
> This is my ultimate hope for our WC characters trapped in this hostile AU.


End file.
